


What is left

by Abidos



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Dehumanization, Dubious Consent, In a sense, M/M, Season 2 spoilers, immediatly after season 2, unrequited Harrow/Viren, viravos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-10-29 12:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abidos/pseuds/Abidos
Summary: Happens immediately after season 2 ends. So it's heavy on the spoilers.'Have you come to gloat?'





	1. Chapter 1

‘You disgust me’.

Opeli’s face, scrunched up in loathing as she closed the door of his cell, burned against his retinas in the sudden darkness. The guards had been no better, clearly sickened by the idea of having to touch him. They had all been happy to eat the food he had provided all those years ago, to celebrate Harrow’s victory over the dragon king, to benefit from his magic again and again. How easily they turned away from the price he had paid for their benefit. Cowards.

He tried to move into a more comfortable position. His shackled wrists clanged against each other above his head. At least they had bound him close to the floor, he doubted his knee would have supported his weight for long. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the almost complete darkness.

How could he have been so stupid, so naïve, so… desperate. He sighed. He should have known better than to trust the elf, of all people. How could he have been so childish as to believe that in his hour of need the universe would gratuitously provide an answer? He was a dark mage, by the gods, he better than anyone should know that nothing ever came without a price. He had fallen in Aaravos’s trap so easily.

_‘Is that what you think of me?’_

Viren jolted as the deep voice resounded not in his ear but inside his own head. Could the elf read his mind now? His stomach contracted in revolt at the violation. He considered banging his skull against the wall until he was unconscious but decided against it.

‘What would you have me think?’ He spoke aloud. He could at least pretend that this last little piece of control was not forcibly being taken from him. Pretence was all he had left.

He felt _something_ move inside his head, a tingling over his eyes. He pressed them shut to try to get it to stop. When he opened them again, Aaravos was standing in front of him, his starry skin lighting up the cell. He squirmed back against the wall, but something caught his eye. The elf’s cloak and foot were standing _through_ a broken jar as if it wasn’t there.

‘You… this is an illusion.’

_‘More than just that’._

Aaravos leaned forward grabbing Viren’s hand. He could feel the pressure, the different textures of palm and fingers, the warmth. Could smell the elf, a watery smell the reminded him of dawn.

‘Have you come to gloat? Why else would you first help me attack the guards if not to assure that I would end up here?’ Aaravos wasn’t even looking at him, staring intently at their touching hands. ‘No one remains to defend the kingdom; you and the rest of your kind can ransack it without challenge’. He turned away, trying not to let despair seize him. His only solace knowing that he had sent his children away. They had a chance to survive the massacre.

Aaravos pulled Viren’s face back to him. He started to protest, but before he could utter a word, the elf pushed his lips against the high mage’s mouth. The kiss was a brusque thing, Aaravos kept pressing against him until Viren was flat against the wall, with his lap full of an elf who seemed all but intend on devouring him.

 _‘Do you have any idea how long it has been since I have been touched by another living being?’_ Viren felt Aaravo’s lips ghost over his, felt his breath, but the voice still sounded in his skull. The elf pushed his head aside and bit down on his neck.

 _‘How long since I’ve felt another’s skin against mine’_ He could feel Aaravos’s lips against him as if he was wearing no clothes at all. He groaned. He didn’t know how long it had been for the elf, but he hadn’t been this intimate with anyone in years. He didn’t know what this was. Some final humiliation, some last game.

 _‘Shhh, I understand why you would think like this’_ The deep voice echoed beguilingly through his mind as Aaravos’s mouthed slowly down his neck and across his collarbone. ‘You’ve always been treated like a dog, you’d expected nothing else’.

‘What? No!’ Viren protested and tried to manoeuvre Aaravos away. The elf leaned back, he placed his hand on Viren’s cheek, slowly running his thumb across his lips.

 _‘Of course you were, always at his beck and call, always by his side, but only on his terms, only when he deemed it appropriate’._ The elf was hard to read, but it seemed to Viren he was looking at him with pity. _‘Sure, a man might end up being fond of his dog, might occasionally throw a ball for it, feed it some scraps under the table. But he wouldn’t let it get on the furniture, and he’d never let it sleep in its master’s bed’._ Viren swallowed. _‘And if it bites, he’ll put it down’._

Viren wanted to protest, Harrow had been his friend. But their last conversation kept flashing through his head. He could still hear his king’s voice: “You are beneath me” “On your knees” “You are nothing more than a servant”. He could still remember the look in Harrow’s eyes as if he was a bug to be squashed. He felt Aaravos lips against his cheek.

 _‘It’s all right, I hate dogs’_ He felt the elf’s hand run over his chest. ‘Japing tail-wagging, slobbering creatures, made by humans to be no more than their slaves’. He kissed him again, slower this time, softly moving his lips against him. _‘I prefer wolves, proud, protective of their pack, fierce…’_ He pulled back and locked eyes with the human. ‘ _Free’_.

Viren whimpered, Aaravos smiled and leaned forward. This time Viren opened his lips slightly, and the elf wasted no time slipping his tongue past them. He tasted like dew, like the wind during a brisk autumn night. This was wrong, he shouldn’t give in. But what would it matter? He’d be dead soon, either executed for high treason or murdered when the Xadians took the castle. Either way, he’d be lucky if they’d grant him a quick death. What would he gain from rejecting the last sliver of pleasure in his life? Even if it was fake in every sense of the word.


	2. Chapter 2

Aaravos yelped as he felt the human’s teeth grace his lower lip. He pulled back and saw the maimed mouth twist.

 _‘A wolf, you said?’_ He heard it think. Aaravos felt the desire that had possessed him since he touched the man’s skin conflagrate.

‘Yes!’ He exhaled and plunged forward, his hands grasping the human’s neck and jaw. Yes! Gods! This was what he needed, finally. Another creature to interact with. Someone who reacted to him, someone who acknowledged him, _saw_ him. The human answered the kiss now, slipping its tongue inside his mouth and pressing against him.

Aaravos felt like he could cry. The human was moving against him deliberately, slowing their pace. He followed suit without thinking about it. Anything, he’d do anything as long as the creature didn’t stop.

He knew he shouldn’t do this, it was a mistake on so many levels, but he couldn’t stop himself now even if he wanted to. Perhaps if the human tried to stop him… Perhaps?!  No, of course he would stop, he wasn’t… he wasn’t a rapist. Except… except the human hadn’t given any sign of wanting this, and it was captured and desperate, dependent on Aaravos. It wasn’t in a position to consent.

He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the sensations the spell was transmitting to him. The warmth of the body beneath him, it’s breath, the clinking of the chains as the human pulled on them. Aaravos saw that it wanted to touch him, sink his fingers in Aaravos’s hair and pull him close. Touch the stars on his skin.

‘Starving little thing’.

Aaravos leaned back, keeping the foolish creature in place, and smiling coyly. With a shrug of his shoulders what little that had covered his chest slid off. He revelled in the hunger he could read in the human’s black eyes and feel in its mind.

‘ _Beautiful… the most beautiful creature I’ve seen in my life…’_ he could hear the words echo over the link. It sounded almost sad. Aaravos placed his knees on either side of it and pushed up. Immediately he felt a warm mouth against his chest, lips against the glowing rune. Aaravos shivered. Then the human bit on his breast, softly, but enough to bruise. Aaravos grabbed it by the hair and pulled it back. The grin he found on the marred face looked delicious, and he didn’t hesitate to kiss it away. Then he pressed its head to his chest again. Caresses now, against his abused flesh. Then the human moved slightly and took his nipple into its mouth, sucked on it.

This was what he wanted, this was what he missed. No matter how good his illusions were... and they were, they were perfect, Aaravos didn’t believe in half measures; they were never… true. There was never anything in them _he_ hadn’t put there, never anything that wasn’t himself. Before the mirror, he had been a loner and happily so. After the first hundred years of nothing but his own mind as company, he would have crawled over shards of glass for the king of dragons for just one word, a nod, anything to break the loneliness. He had stared out of the mirror, his rooms in total darkness, as the dragon court unfolded. No one had acknowledged him, looked in his direction. In the end, he had flooded the room with light, decided to never look out of it again. Being ignored was worse than being alone.

He ran his fingers through the human’s hair, kept trying to grab onto horns that weren’t there, the images of past lovers flashing before his eyes. He let a languid moan slip over his lips.

What if he was ruining everything? He had plans, yes, so many plans. He still had a long road before him before he could manipulate the human into freeing him… what if he spent another thousand years imprisoned because he hadn’t been able to control himself? The thought was terrifying enough to cut through the haze of lust. He should…But then the human raised one of its knees and stroked against his groin. All rational thought fled.

He rubbed against it, sparks of pleasure dancing over his spine. For a second, he lost his concentration and he was back again in his prison, the dark cell replaced by the airy room he hated with all his heart. Desperately he searched for the connection and plunged back into the spell. When he opened his eyes again, he was back. The human didn’t seem to have noticed anything.

Oh well, he had come this far. A touch to his belt and what remained of his clothes fell to the ground. The human whimpered against him. He kissed it again. Slowly this time. The spell he was using was pure moon magic. He couldn’t remove the human’s clothes, only make it feel as if he had. It would have to do.

He slid one hand between his own legs and started to open himself, that part was easy. The other he moved to the human’s groin, using what blood he had left in his brain to properly direct the spell. The human yelped in surprise. Slowly Aaravos positioned himself and sank unhurriedly. It still wasn’t like the real thing, no matter what, he still noticed there wasn’t anything in him. But it was enough.

When he was finally seated, he opened his eyes again. The human was panting, and its pale cheeks had a lovely purplish hue. Aaravos shot it one of his half-grins that had always annoyed the dragon king so much. Then he started to move. Agonisingly slow at first. The human grunted in frustration and grabbed its shackles, pulling helplessly.

Aaravos chuckled as he continued his slow torture. Gods, it felt so good. The human’s pants were music to his ears. He grabbed himself with one hand and stroked himself with the same slow, deliberate pace. He allowed soft moans to fall from his mouth, bit his lip, groaned, enjoying the human’s reactions.

_‘Please’_

He smiled satisfied and began moving faster, grabbing the human’s shoulder for leverage. It was exhilarating. The creature might even make a decent pet. He could feel the human’s orgasm mounting as well as his own. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. Then an image flashed before his eyes. Deep brown skin, bathed in sunlight, a voice he didn’t recognise. The human king! He felt the human’s aversion, felt it trying to banish the image, but he didn’t care. He grabbed the human’s hair and slammed its head against the wall.

‘YOU ARE WITH ME! Don’t you dare think of anyone but me! You are MINE!’ He snarled at him. His human started to sputter an apology than stopped himself.

‘ _Don’t read my thoughts!’_ the human glared at him. Aaravos cursed at himself. He had allowed the human to see him angry, he couldn’t show his emotions like this, couldn’t drop the masks he had crafted for himself. What if he scared him off?

He cradled the human’s skull. He couldn’t apologise, couldn’t show more weakness than he already had. He ran his fingers through his… its hair. He leaned forward and waited. After a few eternal seconds, the human leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Aaravos let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding.

He started to move again. The human now kept its weary eyes on him. Aaravos grinned. He placed one hand on the human’s skin and concentrated. Tiny lightning sparks ran from his fingers through the human’s body. It moaned and bucked against him. Aaravos felt it growing completely hard again. He moved faster as he repeated the spell. The human was panting and cursing under its breath. At the third jolt, he felt it come. He kept moving and stroked himself. He felt his orgasm closing in. The human leaned closer and bit him hard in the nape of his neck. With that, his climax hit him, and he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

 

Viren slowly opened his eyes. The cell was completely dark again, and it seemed colder than it had before. He knew it had been a mistake, had known from the start. The wrongness had borrowed in him, making his skin crawl even as Aaravos writhed in his lap, but then he had the ethereal creature to distract him. Now the feeling settled in his stomach as cold dread. His trousers were wet and the cell smelled of sex. It made him gag and he did his best to not throw up. Although that could be the concussion he was fairly certain he now had. He cringed at his own behaviour. Not even physical abuse would stop him from humiliating himself, so it would seem. Pathetic.

There was no input from the elf, and Viren didn’t feel the worm move. Well, it wasn’t as if he could be of any more use to him. And Aaravos had had the gall of accusing Harrow of using him. Harrow… he hadn’t wanted to think of him. In the past thinking of the king had warmed him during cold nights, but ever since the attack, it felt wrong, perverse. He shouldn’t have let Harrow stop him. He should have switched their bodies as he had intended. That way he, Viren, would be dead and Katolis would still have a king. The Pentarchy would have listened to another royal and the princes wouldn’t be on the way to their death and to return to the enemy their greatest weapon.

But he had failed. As Harrow’s word cut him open, he had thought of Soren and Claudia. Should he leave his children fatherless to save the life of such an ingrate? Such cowardice… He should have been the one to never walk out of that room again. He had been weak then, just as he had been weak now. Opeli was right, for once in her life. He was disgusting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was supposed to be all from Viren's point of view. But when I started chapter 2 he didn't say a thing and instead Aaravos turned up. So here you have. Am not too happy about it overall, since the tone does change a lot. But writing from Aaravos pov was interesting at least.  
> When I started writing I realised that Aaravos never bothers to ask Viren's name, so that's why he doesn't use it.
> 
> I'd love to hear from you and feel free to point out any mistakes/ things you were less thrilled about.


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